


Old Man Problems

by Araciuos



Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Old Man Felix, Old Man Sylvain, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem), Sylvix Week 2020, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araciuos/pseuds/Araciuos
Summary: Felix does not recommend this getting old business. 0/10-Written for Sylvix Week 2020- Day 3: Injuries/Healing
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933129
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Old Man Problems

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another late one!

Felix is no stranger to physical pain.

The war held more than a lifetime's worth. His body still bears scars that will never fade, neither will the memories with them. A lightning constellation ripples across his chest and down his arm, a thoron spell taken to protect the boar’s lapdog. Three puncture wounds on his left shoulder, arrows taken when an enemy archer found him alone. A long thin line stretching down his right thigh, a lucky hit from a swordmaster like himself. 

These scars are proof of what he sacrificed for the sake of their victory. Every one of the blue lions have them. All of them are affected by them years later.

But this, really is pathetic.

Felix may be getting older, but he should still be able to move on his own. Right?

He groans loudly, attempting to swing his legs off of the bed. Damn Faerghus and it’s damn cold. It’s damn annoying. And damn the war, no one told him that the winners would suffer from damn arthritis. 

He manages to stand, joints cracking and muscles straining and stumbles over to the chest of drawers. He quickly dresses then barely manages to throw a long burnt out candlestick at the lump on the bed. A hand slips out from under the covers, waving him away, the man underneath mumbling something unintelligible. Normally this is the moment that Felix would yell at him to get up, but today, he didn’t have the energy.

He pulls back the curtains enough to see that he’d slept into mid morning, his usual morning schedule getting later and later with age. He moved to the bed, giving the lump another smack, eliciting a loud groan, then leaves the room, the servants wishing him a good morning as he walked past.

Annoyingly, this estate was designed with the main offices on the top storey, which means Felix has some stairs to climb. And just his luck, his joints don’t want to behave and he trips on the last flight, slamming his arm onto the steps to break his fall, that’ll definitely bruise. No one was around to see his stumble, thank the goddess, he still has a reputation to uphold. With that thought in mind, he shoots up, his joints aching in protest, and quickly escapes to his office. He sighs once inside, what a pathetic man he’s become. Barely older than what Rodrigue was when he died and he didn’t fall walking up stairs, or have difficulty with something as simple as getting out of bed. He guesses that’s what he gets for not taking proper care of himself in his youth. 

There’s no point dwelling on it, he has things to do, a Dukedom to run. He sits at his desk, and begins reading through the letters that came through for him that morning, slowly munching on the spread the servants left for him before his arrival.

It was during reading through a letter from Annette asking him if he was to attend their yearly reunion next month that Sylvain wondered in, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses, a new addition almost immediately after the war. He gently lays down on the nearby lounge, soft snores filling the room not long after. Felix rolls his eyes, and not wanting to strain his joints by getting up, lobs a well used stress ball at him with his uninjured arm.

Sylvain startles, turning to Felix to give him a harsh glare. “There are letters here for you too, Ingrid wants to know if you’ve managed to take Lilan out for a ride recently.”

“And you can’t answer that yourself? There’s no way either of us can deny that kid anything.” He snorts, standing to join Felix at the desk.

Felix shrugs, receiving an unimpressed look from Sylvain. “You can’t deny him anything, that has nothing to do with me.” He scoffs. “And she’ll know if I write your response, and she will think that you are avoiding her because you’ve done something, so that’s your problem.” He dismisses, handing the letter to Sylvain. “Annette-”

“Fe.”

“What? Don’t interrupt.”

“You’re killing me.” Sylvain pouts, pushing aside some of the letters on the desk before sitting on it. Felix lightly smacks his leg, earning a grin. Complaining about Sylvain messing with things on his desk has never stopped him from doing so, not even once in the years they’ve been together. “Also that was a rude awakening this morning, did you really need to throw a candle stick at me? Really hurts my feelings when I’m treated like this.” He places his hand on his chest insulted, like that’s supposed to earn sympathy.

Felix huffs, returning to his letters, ignoring Sylvain’s whine of protest and dodging the hands grabbing at the letter in hand. Eventually, Sylvain gives in, taking the letters addressed to him and laying back down on the lounge. Lazy little shit. The peaceful moment doesn’t last however when he shoots back up, joining Felix again by the desk.

“Hey, why don’t we both take Lilan out?” He suggests, leaning against the back of Felix’s chair. “Goddess knows you need a break from all of this.” He gestures to the ever growing pile of letters, both personal and official. Felix thinks of the small boy Sylvain picked up from the streets a few years ago, another addition to their growing list of children.

“I can’t just ‘take a break’, Fraldarius won’t run itself.” He snaps.

“That’s why you have an heir though right? Just give it to her, she can handle it. That’s what my father did with things he didn’t want to do.” Sylvain reasons, beginning to massage Felix’s shoulders in an attempt to convince him.

“Yes, then you surrendered Gautier to the Sreng behind his back and ended up homeless for a while. Such a perfect example Sylvain, thankyou for the suggestion.” He retorts, glancing behind him to see the pout he already knew was there.

“I miss the days when you used to lose your marbles every time you gave yourself a papercut, saying that ‘you weren’t built for this bullshit’.” He sighs in response.

“I’m 53, not 25. I learnt.”

“Oh come on, just a quick ride,” he pleads, moving around to the front of the desk. “I’ll even help you with your work when we come back!”

“You, helping with paperwork? Who are you and what have you done with the real Sylvain.”

“Please?” He tries again, resting on his elbows against the desk.

“No, I’m not going out into the cold to watch an eight year old fail to ride a horse!”

“Ah, I’ve got you now!” 

“What?” Felix tilts his head in confusion, looking at the triumphant man before him.

“Your arthritis is playing up again isn’t it?” Sylvain concludes, his smile growing wider with each second of silence. “Would you like a massage? You know I’m good at them.” He proposes, voice growing deeper, “I can keep you nice and warm you know?” He reaches across, taking Felix’s hands in his own briefly, then moves up his arms, squeezing as he goes in a mockery of a massage. What he didn’t account for was the wince of pain Felix gave when he reached a particular spot on his forearm. He squeezes that spot again to make sure he didn’t imagine it, and when Felix tries and fails to hide another wince he darts back to Felix’s side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Nothing, I just fell on the stairs.”

“You fell on the stairs!?”

“No…”

“But you just said-”

“You’re hearing things, must be going crazy in your old age.” 

Sylvain huffs, pulling on Felix’s sleeve until he reveals a red mark stretching along the expanse of Felix’s forearm. Immediately he calls upon whatever little faith magic he knows to prevent bruising.

“Sylvain, I’m fine.” Sylvain only hums, pushing Felix’s chair, and Felix with it away from the desk so he can kneel in front of him. He gets to work soothing Felix’s pain all over his body, starting with his stiff shoulders and ending with his knees. By the end of it, Felix has laid back against the seat, relishing in the sweet reprieve.

Sylvain remains where he is for a time, then grabs Felix’s hand, bringing it to his lips. “You should tell me next time you’re having trouble, I want to take care of you, you know that.” He murmurs, ghosting his lips up Felix’s exposed arm, giving him goosebumps. Felix can feel his face heating up, this man will be the death of him. Of that, he is sure. 

Sylvain moves up to his face, his stubble scratching against the soft skin of Felix’s neck before he places a soft kiss on his cheek. He pulls back far enough to look into Felix’s eyes, but still close enough that Felix can feel his breath tickling his face. “So you’ll let me, won’t you?” He gives Felix a soft smile, still clutching onto Felix’s hand.

Felix takes a deep breath, he most likely looks like an idiot, blushing so much after such simple touches, so he tries to will it away, a frown forming in his attempt. Sylvain puffs out a laugh, and instead of forcing an answer out of him, falls down to rest his head in his lap, looking up at him through long lashes. Felix’s mind jumps ahead to an activity that he would usually do in this position, in this very chair, not helping his case at all. In embarrassment he looks away, and he feels Sylvain grab his other hand, intertwining their fingers.

“If you won’t let me take care of you, will you at least look after yourself?” He asks, drawing Felix’s attention back to him. Felix says nothing, letting Sylvain go on, “Come with me for a ride, we don’t have to take Lilan with us, but it would be good for you to take a break from work for a day. You can’t work for the rest of your life.” Sylvain fails to mention how disappointed the boy would be if they left without him, they both know it. Lilan has found a new love for horses, almost spending his entire day annoying the stablehand asking to feed them.

“I’m not helping him on the saddle, that child is yours, I didn’t ask for another stray.” He insists, both of them know there is no heat behind the words, considering the amount of kids (and cats) Felix has picked up over the years too. Sylvain pouts anyway, untangling his hands to pinch Felix’s arm in retaliation. He squeaks, reaching out to hit Sylvain, the man expertly dodging before he stands up, dragging Felix with him. 

He notes the lack of stiff limbs, and goes happily, laughing as the other carries him down the stairs, claiming that ‘he will protect him’.

And if they end up stumbling and falling those last few steps, well no one can prove it.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted Felix to fall on the stairs. I don't know why that's so funny to me but anyway!
> 
> And shout out to Day 1 with the kids. (Vivian was their first) (*´꒳`*)
> 
> Hope you liked it!


End file.
